The Wandering Age

We wondered how concise we could make a Cardboard Tube Samurai Story. The answer? Fairly Concise.

I need to talk to somebody, and I don’t know who else to come to. Do you have a moment? I require calibration.

It is Devastating and Life Altering and, of course, Gabriel is involved. Just to help you orient your instrumentation, the way of things - the natural order - is that I am very picky and Gabriel is like a Cultural Goat who will consume absolutely anything. You might have seen us reprise these roles from time to time in posts and strips, it’s sort of What We Do. At some recent point, I just got tired of hating movies and slouching angrily through summer blockbusters. I wanted to spend nine fifty on a movie and get some approximation of nine fifty back.

Case in point.

Many readers wrote in to warn me about Terminator 3, and Lord knows I’d seen the pre-release buzz. It was not a good buzz, either - it was a Swarm Of Hornets sort of angry buzz that saw enraged geeks taking to the streets, holding signs which said things like “Continuity Is Not A River In Egypt.” Inexplicable signs. If the movie had just had robots or just had time travel, I could probably skip it. You put those two things together and I sit bolt upright, I start to sway rhythmically in accordance with its dark rhythms. So I had to go. And between my adoption of Gabe’s substandard quality detection and readers having eradicated any vestige of hope I had for a decent movie… I loved it.

It’s like some bizarre fan project writ large. You might recall my use of the term fan service not long ago - well, “fan service” accurately describes the entire movie. Quite simply, the things that happen are plucked from the dampest of geek wet dreams. It also has Claire Danes, who is simply better than we poor dorks deserve in a movie like this. I could watch her cry all day, I mean it. She does this thing with her lip that makes me want to devour her face.

Have I gone completely fucking nuts? I loved The Hulk, and I loved that Goddamn Pirates of the Caribbean movie, too. It would be one thing if you were coming by Penny Arcade via a drive-through window and I was just trying to make sure you got the requisite number of Chili Chimps. But I’m starting to think I have no nose for entertainment.